With a series of hand gestures, Bedova indicated for one of her men to take Tyler and Grant over to the trailer and keep an eye on them while they examined the device. At the same time, she’d make her assault.
She and the first man dashed out of the office. Tyler and Grant crabbed over to the trailer with the operative assigned to watch them. The two of them entered the trailer while the Russian stayed nearby and kept a lookout.
Tyler’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark as he moved past the barrels. He stopped when his foot bumped into something pliant.
Grant pointed behind one of the drums. A body. Tyler recognized the face from a photo at the research center. It was Professor Stevens. Another limp figure lay next to him. He didn’t recognize the man, but it had to be the student, Milo Beech.
Tyler knelt and felt for a pulse. They were both alive. He lightly slapped Stevens’ face, but the professor didn’t move. Same for Beech. Tyler put two hands together at the side of his head to indicate to Grant that they were out cold, probably drugged.
Now that his eyes had adjusted, Tyler could see the truck’s interior past the drums. Stacked floor-to-ceiling were twenty-five-pound bags full of pink ANFO pellets. Enough space to hold all forty tons of it.
Grant examined the wires from behind one of the barrels so he wouldn’t block the dim light coming from the warehouse.
“Doesn’t look like it’s booby-trapped,” he whispered. “But I don’t see a timer or receiver for a radio- controlled detonation.”
“When Bedova’s got the place secured, we can—”
Shouts inside the warehouse interrupted Tyler. The man who’d been guarding them took cover behind a forklift. Tyler and Grant edged out the rear of the trailer where Tyler spied Bedova and the rest of her men surrounded by Colchev’s operatives.
She spoke to Colchev in soothing Russian that suggested a history between them. Colchev shook his head and answered in English.
“Remember what my note said, Nadia?”
Bedova nodded, but she didn’t lower her gun. “I can’t let you do this, Vladimir.”
“And I can’t let you leave.”
“You can’t go back to Russia. Not ever.”
Colchev slowly shook his head. “In four days they will welcome me with open arms after they see what I’ve achieved.”
The operative behind the forklift, the last of Bedova’s men still hidden, stood to shoot, but one of Colchev’s operatives spotted him and hit him with a three-round burst to the chest. The man fell backward, his finger on the trigger of his weapon. Automatic fire spewed toward the ceiling, the suppressor muting the shots so that they weren’t much louder than the pings of the bullet impacts.
In response silenced gunfire erupted from every direction. Bedova’s team scrambled for cover, blasting away as they ran, but they were caught in a crossfire. Two of Colchev’s men had perfect sightlines on her team and cut down their targets with lethal precision. Within seconds, Bedova’s three other men were dead.
Bedova showed no fear as she returned fire, dropping to one knee and taking aim at Colchev in a textbook stance. She got off three rounds, but Colchev was too quick. He rolled to the side as bullets pinged off the metal walls behind him. He came to rest in a prone position and pulled his trigger just once. Bedova’s head snapped backward, and she crumpled to the floor.
“Cease fire!” Colchev shouted. He got to his feet and walked over to Bedova’s corpse, where he knelt beside her, softly caressing her hair. Tyler saw no satisfaction, only remorse.
Tyler was about to suggest they make a break for it when Colchev stood and started to turn toward the open trailer. Tyler and Grant scrambled behind the barrels before they were spotted.
“Close everything up and take the bodies into the office,” Colchev said. “We are leaving now.”
Footsteps pounded toward the trailer, and Tyler and Grant tried to make themselves as small as possible. Any attempt at escape would be suicidal.
Still, the alternative wasn’t much better. The trailer door was slammed shut and latched from the outside, leaving Tyler and Grant in total blackness with an 80,000-pound bomb.
EIGHTEEN
Jess checked her phone again to make sure it was getting a signal. Tyler still hadn’t called. She wasn’t worried just yet, but she thought it shouldn’t have taken this long to do his reconnaissance.
“What do you think they’re doing in there?” Fay said. Since the gray-haired man walked back from the van to the warehouse, they’d seen no movement at all.
“I don’t know. Maybe Tyler and Grant will be able to tell us.”
They went silent, waiting for the cell phone to buzz.
Fay turned to Jess. “You haven’t spoken to Tyler much since we left New Zealand.”
Jess sighed. “Not much to say.”
“Did you talk to him about Andy?”
Jess shook her head. “Not yet.”
“I’ll leave that to you.” Fay took a deep breath. “Are you ready to tell me why you broke up with Tyler?”
“We didn’t have the same priorities at the time.”
“Were you in love with him?”
Jess hesitated. “I suppose I was.”
“And now?”
“Of course not.”
“Liar.”
“I haven’t seen him in over fifteen years.”
“I can see it when you look at him. The chemistry is still there.”
“Well, I can tell you this is just a job for him. He’s a professional and it’ll stay that way. I wish you’d told me you were going to call him.”
“You are a pill, Jessica,” Fay said.
“I know.”
“I just want to see you happy before I die.”
Jess’s heart sank. She squeezed Fay’s hand.
“I know, Nana. But you’re a tough lady. You’ll be around for a long time.”
Fay smiled with a tinge of sadness. “I only wish your parents could see what a lovely woman you’ve become.”
Jess was about to reply when she saw movement in the parking lot of the warehouse. Two men went to the CAPEK truck. One of them got in while the other stood behind it.
They watched as the truck backed up to one of the trailers and was hooked up by the man behind.
“Is this what Tyler wanted to see?” Fay asked.
“I don’t know.”
When the tractor and trailer were attached, the rig moved around until it was directly in front of a second trailer. Then the rig backed up, and the second trailer was hooked up. They continued this choreographed hookup process for ten minutes until all four trailers were attached in a line.
“What did Tyler say that was called?” Fay said.
“A road train.”
They’d seen a dozen of them on their way out to the CDU facility and back. Tyler had told them they were the longest street-legal trucks in the world. With minimal rail service in the Australian interior and huge distances to cover, road trains were the most economical means to transport goods between remote outposts.
The two men who’d been attaching the truck got into a white Ford sedan and sped off. Jess and Fay ducked so they wouldn’t be seen. When they sat up, Jess saw the gray-haired man and a companion getting into the
